


An Actual Demon

by peppermiintsplease



Series: The Combustion or Burning Series [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dogs, Domestic Castiel/Dean Winchester, Domestic Fluff, I promise, M/M, Not Beta Read, Puppies, raising a dog, the dog lives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-16 23:21:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29832468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peppermiintsplease/pseuds/peppermiintsplease
Summary: A timestamp to Combustion or Burning. Takes place somewhere between the last two chapters. Time to pick that doggo!
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Series: The Combustion or Burning Series [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2193144
Comments: 3
Kudos: 4





	An Actual Demon

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta’d, and probably a garbage heap of grammatical errors, but it’s basically self-indulgent fluff based on my dog (who might be an actual demon).

Castiel and Dean argue about what type of pet to get. For months.

“A cat, Dean. They’re so much lower maintenance than dogs. They’re so independent!”

“Okay, your arguments are great, except that I am _allergic_ to the little psychos.”

“We could buy Claritin.”

“That shit only works a little. I’m sorry, Cas, but I just don’t want to live in a constant state of congestion. I know you really want a cat. How about a fish?” Dean’s already suggested a dog, but Castiel initially dismissed the idea. He had dogs growing up, and he loved them. But he’s always had a soft spot for the cats in his family.

Cas sighs. He understands, but he’s disappointed. He had been briefly excited by the prospect of a few cat breeds that the internet had claimed were hypoallergenic, but after some extensive googling, he discovered that for the most part, there was no such thing. There was no way to know if Dean’s allergies would go away as he got used to the cat. And Castiel couldn’t think of a worse outcome than Dean being miserable and having to give the cat up after a year or so.

He supposes a dog would be nice. Maybe something small. They have a small apartment, after all. A big dog like a labrador or a dalmatian would be miserable. And Dean’s not allergic to dogs, though he knows his boyfriend didn’t grow up with animals, so he’s largely ambivalent towards them. It’s Castiel that wants a pet.

He looks into dog breeds. He dismisses the “designer dogs” as being somewhat silly, even if the pomeranian-husky mixes he saw might have been the cutest things on this planet. A very vocal part of the internet seems to think it’s a lot of money for a mutt, which Castiel privately agrees with. Why not adopt a dog?

But he can’t settle on a breed. Great danes are apparently good apartment dogs, but he can’t help but think he’d like something small. A chihuahua? Way too small. A terrier? So fussy looking. Dean would never go for it. 

Weeks go by. He’s done more research on raising a dog than he ever thought he needed, but he’s determined that if it’s going to be a dog it’s going to be raised _right_. Social and well-behaved. 

One Friday night, he’s bemoaning his dog-search woes to Charlie, when she says “what about a shiba inu?”

“Excuse me?”

“Shiba. Inu. Two words. Look it up. Japanese. Very cute. Small, but not tiny. And I think you’ll appreciate their personality traits.”

So he does.

He comes across articles and information. And also memes. The internet seems to love this dog. Why hasn’t he heard of it? Though, he supposes that meme of the judgemental-looking dog seems familiar (except it says “doge”? How do you even say that?). He vaguely remembers it being surrounded by colorful writing.

Then he sees a graphic. It’s titled: “Shiba Inus: Secret Cats.”

He texts Dean: _I found us a dog breed._

\------------------------

Dean’s immediately hooked. He’s not a dog guy, definitely thought this would be mostly Cas’ dog, but damn, that face.

Castiel has found a litter of shiba inu puppies up for adoption in Fresno, which is a little under 4 hours from their place in San Francisco, but he had been adamant that they were going to find one to adopt, rather than find one from a breeder, so they were willing to make the drive. And he and Dean had agreed that a pet store was out of the question after an extensive lecture from Cas about the evils of puppy farms.

So, Fresno. To a little adoption center they found on Petfinder that recently acquired an abandoned litter of shiba inu puppies from a puppy mill that had gotten shut down.

Castiel is scrolling through the email he received back from the adoption center with the descriptions of the dogs, trying to decide which one sounds the most promising.

“Cas, relax. We’ll meet the puppies, and I’m sure we’ll find one we click with. They’re puppies. They’re all amazing.”

“I know. I just wanted to be prepared.”

“I don’t think we could be more prepared if we tried.”

It’s true. They have a hard-sided crate strapped into the backseat with towels and blankets inside. They have a travel food and water dish, and a little container to put the puppy’s food in so they can mix it with the food they’ve already bought at home. There is a small pile of toys at the apartment for the puppy to decide what type it likes best. They have another crate at home for when they’re not traveling with the thing. They have a variety of pamphlets about pet insurance, and they have a small binder filled with information about shiba inus, dog training, and puppy care in general. That Cas put together in the last twelve hours and they’ve both read about a dozen times, somehow. They’re ready.

Seriously, Dean’s pretty sure some people are not as prepared to have a baby as they are for this dog. They don’t have a name yet, but Dean’s got a few up his sleeve, and he’s pretty sure Cas does, too.

“Do you think the dogs will like us?”

“They’re puppies, Cas. They like everyone who will play with them.”

“What if--”

“Hey,” Dean glances over at Cas, who’s biting his lip with anxiety, “it’s gonna be great. Worst case, we get to play with puppies for a little while, right?”

“Right.”

When they get to the house, a very kind woman named Amy takes them back to see the puppies. She has them wash their hands, and on the way, tells them a little bit more about how the puppies came to be at her house.

“Well, we got a call from the Puppy Mill Project, and there was a place out near L.A. that wasn’t complying with the puppy mill laws that went into effect this year. So they got in touch with Fresno Animal Adoption Society, and I’ve fostered some for them in the past. They needed space for six puppies and since we recently lost our dog Roscoe, we have the space. We’re thinking about keeping one of the puppies for ourselves, to be honest.”

She shows them into a room that has a very strong animal smell, and walks over to a large pen in the corner from which small yips and scratching noises can be heard, motioning them to follow her.

“They’re all about 10 weeks old, which is perfect, I wouldn’t want to send any puppy home with someone before 7 weeks, so these little guys have had a little extra time together. They’ve all been spayed or neutered, too.”

Cas and Dean look down into the pen to see six wiggly puppies. Two were a reddish brown color, one was nearly white, and the others were mostly black, with light brown marks around their eyes and on their chests.

Amy points out the different puppies. “The only one that’s already in the process of being adopted is Romaine, over there, the white one. But all the rest are still up for adoption! Do you have a preference for boy or girl?”

Dean glances over at Cas, who shakes his head slightly, “no, I don’t think so.”

“Well! How about I open up the pen and let you guys play for a few minutes, get to know them. If I can give you any insight into them, I will. They’ve all got their little personalities. They all have temporary names, but obviously you’re welcome to change that,” she opens up the pen, and all the puppies yip a little, tumbling out, excited to jump around these two humans who have come to see them. 

It relieves Dean, a little. He had soothed Cas’ worries in the car, but Dean was worried about the same things. What if this little dog just doesn’t like him?

They both sit themselves on the wood floor, and the puppies get right up in their business, sniffing, biting fingers, pulling shoelaces. They are funny little animals, Dean thinks, laughing at their antics. One of the little brown ones is biting playfully at the legs of one of the smallest, black and tan ones that’s gotten up on its hind legs with its front paws on Cas’ arm. Dean watches Cas laugh and pluck the little one out from his sibling’s teeth. 

“There you go, you just needed a break from your brother, huh?”

The puppy licks at Cas’ fingers, and then gnaws on them a little. Cas gently pulls his fingers from the puppy’s mouth and says “no biting,” in such a serious voice Dean has to laugh.

“How about that one?” Dean asks.

“This one?”

“Yeah, that one. In your arms. It seems to like you.” And it’s true. Dean thinks that’s the same little one, the smallest of the bunch, that was trying to get Cas’ attention, even while Cas was meeting the other ones. It whined until Cas picked it up.

“She seems to. Here, come see.” Cas and Dean scoot closer together on the floor, puppies around them alternately vying for their attention and playing together. One of them is already asleep in the corner.

Dean pats the little thing on its -- her, apparently -- head. The puppy licks his wrist, and he’s done for.

“Arugula likes you,” comes Amy’s amused voice from the doorway.

“Arugula?” Dean wonders, smiling at the little puppy now trying to crawl over Cas’ arms into Dean’s lap to investigate him thoroughly.

“Yeah. We decided to name them all after types of lettuce. Don’t ask.”

“Arugula seems to be taking to Dean quite well,” Cas says again, in his serious voice. Dean can tell it’s masking his nerves a little, but Cas has already relaxed some, seeing Dean interact with the dog. Did Cas really think Dean wouldn’t like a puppy?

Dean nudges Cas’ shoulder with his own. “She likes you too, babe.” Cas gives him a slightly nervous smile in response.

“I think we should get Arugula.”

“Me too.”

“Great!” Amy gives them a big grin, and tells them they can follow her. They bring Arugula (god, they have to change that name) with them, and she wiggles the whole time, trying to lick their faces. The whole thing makes Dean feel warmer inside than he has in a long time.

The paperwork is pretty simple. They sign a contract Amy produces, stating that they will provide a home and take care of this little dude, never allow her to be experimented on (wow, does that really need to be in there? Dean thinks, sadly, it probably does), pass over a check to the adoption agency, and Amy gives them a bag of supplies.

“There’s a kind of temporary leash in there, but you’re going to want to get a different one,”

Cas interrupts, “we’ve got one in the car, too.”

“Awesome! There’s also a small bag of the food we’ve been giving them, and there’s a note in the bag telling you what kind it is in case you want to feed her the same kind, but there’s also instructions on how to switch her to a new food. And,” she produces one last piece of paper, “this one is sort of just an informal thing for the website if you want, but when you decide on his name, they love if you can take a picture of the puppy with their nametag. They’ll post it on the website and social media.”

“We can probably do that.”

“They’ll love it. People just eat it up when it’s puppies, and the more dogs we can get adopted the better!”

They begin the process of heading out the door and securing the puppy into her crate in the car. Amy says goodbye to her and tells them to call if they ever have any questions, since she knows they’re first time dog owners. “Shiba inus are a strange breed, even for people experienced with dogs.” At their raised eyebrows, she smirks a bit and says, “you’ll see.”

To Dean’s surprise, Cas gets in the back seat.

“Dude.”

“I don’t want her to be lonely, Dean,” Cas says, in that serious voice again. Dean can’t help but quirk a small smile at his boyfriend’s care. This puppy is going to be treated better than some humans, he can already tell.

“Alright, dog dad. We need a name for her.”

“We do. Arugula is a wonderful green, but as a name for her, it’s not right.”

“Any ideas?”

Cas hums in thought, then says, “Bones?”

“Cliched.”

“Spot?”

“She doesn’t have any spots, dude.”

“Steven?”

“We are not giving this puppy a human name. And definitely not a man’s name, Cas.”

“Stephanie?”

“That’s just lady Steven.”

“Gertrude?”

“Okay, you’re not allowed to name the dog.”

“Fine, what do you have?”

“Uh, so,” Dean has an idea, but he’s not sure Cas will go for it. “She’s Japanese.”

“Yes, we researched the breed quite thoroughly, I know where they originated.” The puppy is chewing on Cas’ fingers through the grate of the door, and Cas is smiling gently at her while he pulls his fingers from her mouth. She yips a tiny bark at him, and he laughs. The man is fucking adorable. 

“Do you remember what Inu means?”

“Dog.”

“Yeah. And uh, remember that show I like?”

“Doctor Sexy?”

“No, the anime one.”

“The cartoon.”

“ _Anime_. Anyway. It’s called InuYasha.”

A glance in the rearview mirror shows Cas looking amused, eyebrows slightly raised and a smile playing at his mouth. “And?”

“And Yasha. It means ‘Demon’. And it’s Japanese. So, I think we should call her Yasha.”

“You want to name our dog ‘Demon’?”

“It’s _funny_. And cute, dammit; a Shiba InuYasha? Amazing.”

“Yasha. Is that your name,” he asks the dog, in the same serious voice. Dean pictures Cas talking to a baby like a grown adult, and it only makes him want to smile more. Dammit. 

“What’s she say, Cas?”

“I think she likes it. Yasha.”

“Yasha.” Holy shit, he got his way.

“And when people ask, you get to explain that you learned it from a Japanese Cartoon.”

“It’s an _anime_ , Cas, it’s an _art form_.”

“Of course.”

Dean doesn’t care. He got to name the dog. And it’s Yasha. And she’s fucking adorable.

\------------------------

The evening they return to their apartment and spend hours playing with Yasha. They discover that she likes chasing things, and can’t catch worth a damn. They take her out to use the bathroom every hour on the dot (“we’re not taking her out every hour overnight, are we, Cas? Are we?”), and she only pees on the floor once. On the tile, which Cas decides is a success. Dean and Cas combined take approximately 300 pictures of their new puppy, and send them to everyone they know.

“Sam wants to come over tomorrow to meet her.”

“So does Charlie.”

“I kind of want to spend time with just us, though.”

“How about we tell them Sunday? Then we have tomorrow to spend getting to know each other, and they can come over for lunch. Or dinner.”

“That sounds great, Cas.”

There’s a quiet whine from the next room, and they both glance at each other until it ends, a second later.

Dean worries at his lip. “Should we…”

“No, from what I’ve read, I believe she will get used to it.”

“I still don’t like the idea of keeping her in a cage.”

“It’s a crate. And it’s safer than keeping her out, at least for now. They’re helpful for house training, and it gives them a safe place to call their own. That’s what the books say.”

“I know. But it’s so small.”

“She only weighs six pounds. The crate we bought is arguably too big for her.”

“Okay, I know. I read the books too.”

“She’s already quieted down. I bet she’s asleep.”

“We tired her out.”

“We did.”

“Seriously, though, how often do we have to take her out tonight?”

“Goodnight, Dean.”

Dean sighs. “‘Night, Cas.”

During the night, Castiel gets up twice. Once to use the bathroom himself, and once to check in on Yasha. She’s awake, and her little curly tail is flopping back and forth in a wag when she sees him, and she gives an excited whine.

“Alright, do you want to go outside?” She gets more excited as he approaches, and he tries to shush her. “You’re going to wake Dean, we need to be quiet.”

He manages to get her out of her crate and out their door, down the stairs. She pees on the first patch of grass that she sees, and Castiel is sure to praise her and give her a treat, rewarding her for using the appropriate place for her business.

He takes her for a short walk up and down the street, trying to encourage her to walk close to him, rather than pull away and explore every little thing, but mostly her allows her the exploration. She’s a baby still, and the literature advised him that they’ll want to explore everything.

At this time of night (morning?), almost no one is out on the streets. Castiel loves this city, but he loves it most like this; quiet, waiting for the day to begin. Dean always says he finds it creepy when no one’s around, but Cas finds it soothing. It’s cool and misty, the streetlights still on but the bars long past closed. Everything seems more still, as though it’s paused, waiting for life to start again tomorrow.

Or maybe he’s over-romanticising again.

Getting Yasha back upstairs into her crate is easy, and she almost immediately lays down on the soft towel nest they made for her. He crawls back into his own bed, eager to get back to sleep.

Dean rolls towards him, and says, still half asleep, “where’d you go?”

“Yasha needed to go out.”

“Mmkay.”

“Go back to sleep, Dean.” He’s already snoring. Castiel smiles to himself and follows.

\------------------------

“Cas, she’s ringing the damn bells again!”

“That means she needs to go out.”

Dean knows what it means. “She was out five minutes ago!”

“The bells won’t be an effective training tool if we don’t take her out each time she rings them.”

“Who’s training who here, though? Because as I see it, she’s learned that she gets us to pay attention to her if she rings the fucking bells,” Dean gripes as he turns the corner to the front door and finds Yasha nosing at the strip of jingle bells hanging from the handle of the door. When she sees Dean, she freezes. Her tail flops to one side and then the other, and she takes off.

“Oh, no you don’t,” Dean lunges to grab her as she bolts past him, but misses. She’s small, but she’s fast as hell. And wily. He turns, and sees that she's peeking at him from around the corner that leads to the kitchen, where he _knows_ Cas is sitting at the counter working on a paper, even if he’s out of sight. “Cas! Can you please grab your dog?”

“She’s _our_ dog.”

“Not when she’s being a little shit, she’s not,” Dean grumbles to Cas, attempting to make a game plan. He knows from experience that the moment he takes a step in her direction, she’s going to run again. And she’ll do that thing where she pretends to growl in an effort to get him to play chase. And usually, when she plays like this, he indulges her, because it’s adorable and so funny, but right now Cas is insisting that whenever she rings the bells she goes outside, so he needs to get her leash clipped on her collar. Somehow.

Yasha never has a chance. 

Cas sneaks up behind her and scoops her into his arms. Dean sees her eyes go wide and she startles in response, but wiggles excitedly when she realizes it’s Cas who’s got her. Dean rolls his eyes and walks over to clip the leash on and take her outside.

“You little demon.”

“You literally named her ‘demon’, Dean.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t know it would be so on the nose,” he gives Cas a peck on the cheek, and addresses Yasha, “Let’s go, monster. You rang the bells, you gotta get out there.”

Yasha is actually pretty good on a leash. Cas watched some videos about dog training, and a lot of it isn’t sticking (though they’re signed up for a class that begins in two weeks, so there’s hope), but as Cas says, she’s polite on a leash. She doesn’t pull, she doesn’t weave around them and make them trip. She walks to their side almost exactly, and though she spends a few minutes nosing around the grass looking for her spot to do her thing, she mostly just walks along with them. Cas has her jogging with him (and Dean, a few times, though he hates running) every day, so she gets plenty of leash practice.

However, today Yasha seems determined to live up to her name.

After they’ve walked about a block, Yasha stops, and apparently has decided she will walk no further.

“C’mon, Yash.”

Nothing.

“Yasha. Come.” The little dog tilts her head, but stubbornly refuses to move.

Dean tugs slightly on the leash, but can’t budge his pup. She weighs maybe twelve pounds, but this little dog is an immovable object. What the hell?

“Yasha…” something triggers his mischievous dog. She backs her whole body up, and Dean watches helplessly as she manages to slip her entire collar off her head and takes off running. Shit.

“Yasha!” _fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck_ , Dean’s chanting in his head, panic beginning to blossom in his chest. He _knows_ that collar fits her perfectly, what the hell? What if she gets hit by a car? What if he never finds her? He can see her a little ways away, sniffing at something or other on the sidewalk, people walking around her. Dean tries to walk calmly towards her, knowing that if he runs she’s going to think he’s playing and take off running even further. He prays someone realizes what’s happening and grabs her, but no such luck. She wags her tail when she sees him, and runs a little further away. She turns to face him and play bows at him, sneezing and grumbling at him. A stranger glances up at Dean, and then down to Yasha. He manages to say “can you--” but she takes off again.

Cas is going to kill him. Screw it, he’s running.

He chases his dog down the street, and she turns the corner into a park. Barely a second later, he turns the corner and comes to a halt. Yasha has stopped, because she found herself a treat: a dropped ice cream cone, melting on the sidewalk. Fortunately, it appears to be vanilla.

Dean sees her take note of him, but it seems the game is over, because nothing grabs his little monster’s attention more than food. He manages to get her collar back on before she can bolt again, and this time he picks her up. He can hear her grunt as she’s lifted, but he has no pity. Truthfully, he’s more relieved than anything else. His heart is still pounding.

He carries Yasha (who really isn’t very fond of being held, but can't really do anything about it) back to the apartment. He lets her down for the last few feet at the grass, she pees, and then she leads the way back to the apartment door, a general on a triumphant return from battle. Dean rolls his eyes fondly at his dog.

When he opens the door, Cas calls “how was the walk?”

“Our little demon,” he starts, grabbing a drink from the fridge, “is an escape artist.”

“What?” Cas looks down at the dog, verifying she’s there, and then looks back to Dean, waiting for an explanation. When Dean gives it, Cas says “well, thank goodness you caught her. Is her collar not tight enough?”

“I checked it! It’s exactly how they told us to have it fit.”

When they do a little internet sleuthing, they discover this: shiba inus are apparently notorious for slipping out of their collars. The internet suggests a harness.

“Well. I guess we need a harness,” he looks at the time. “It’s early still. We could go to the store now.”

“Yeah, let’s do it.”

They grab Yasha, who’s excited to be the center of attention from both of her people, and head out the door to the pet boutique about a half mile from their apartment.

They end up with two harnesses (the woman working at the counter is sympathetic to their problem, and agrees, it’s a common issue), a different collar, a new leash, and way too many toys.

Yasha pulls all the stuffing out of her new toys that night. Demon.

\----------------------------------------------

At eight months old, Yasha weighs fifteen pounds. The vet says that’s on the small side for a shiba inu, but she’s the right weight for her shoulder height. Or something. Dean’s just glad she’s healthy.

They decide to give her a little more freedom, and so while they go out for breakfast one Saturday, Yasha is left out of her crate.

Which turns out to be a mistake.

When they open the door, Yasha is as excited to see them as always, but the apartment looks like a paper factory exploded.

She got into the toilet paper in the bathroom and dragged it out into the living room, where it looks like she got into a fight with it and it definitely lost. There’s a half-chewed ream of printer paper that will never be fit to be printed on. She didn’t pull any books down, thank goodness, but she did find the newspaper and she killed it. 

There’s a hole in the front corner of the couch, and stuffing is scattered around like snow.

“Uh, I think she needs more time in the crate.”

“Agreed.”

At least the couch was second-hand.

\------------------------

At least once a week, one of the following happens:

A kid, usually a teenager, maybe someone who looks no older than college aged, will lean over to his or her friends, and say “is that a doge?” Dean and Cas grin, and the kids get to pet Yasha, who delights in the attention and treats she always gets.

The other thing that happens is they get asked “is that a miniature husky?” And once they’re told no, she’s a shiba inu, the reaction is almost always: “oh, one of those designer breeds,” and it _always_ annoys Cas, who then lectures the stranger about how no, shiba inus are not a designer breed, and in fact are a distinct breed who are in considered a basal breed that predates the emergence of the modern breeds of the 19th century (he definitely quotes the Wikipedia article), at which point the stranger will usually apologize, or simply say “well, he’s cute.” And Cas gets weirdly upset about people misgendering their dog, so he responds “ _her_ name is Yasha, and you may pet her, if you’d like,” because they’re working very hard on socializing their puppy, thank you very much.

\------------------------

They had to tell their neighbors that they definitely weren’t mistreating their dog.

Shiba inus, Dean learned, have a very distinctive noise they make. It’s quite literally called a shiba scream. And Yasha screams when they get home from work. Every. Day.

Fortunately, it seems that the noise doesn’t travel far outside their apartment, but one of their neighbors happened to be walking past their door when Cas was walking in one day, and it had to be explained that “no, really, she’s just excited, I promise.” 

\------------------------

When they find a meetup for shiba inus and their owners, Cas insists they go.

They meet a woman in her mid-twenties who laughs when Dean tells her about Cas’ stern correction of people thinking Yasha is a miniature husky, and says everyone thinks her small reddish-brown dog, Penny, is a fox.

“I shit you not, Penny and I were riding up the elevator in my building, and one of the leasing people was on with a prospective renter. It was silent all the way up, I’m talking like, thirteen storeys. They get off on the floor before mine, and as the doors are closing, the guy with the agent goes “is that a fox?” and the doors closed. I never even got to answer!”

Dean laughs. “He waited until--”

“Until the doors were almost closed, yeah. After standing in an elevator with me in silence, with ample opportunity to ask.”

“Jesus. Like an apartment complex would let you have a fox.”

“Right?”

“Does Penny do the scream thing?”

“Yes, it’s mortifying. I take her to the do-it-yourself dog wash, and I swear, she whines and screams the entire time. She hates water.”

“Yasha isn’t into baths, either.”

“They’re menances, I tell you.”

“Yasha means ‘demon’ in Japanese.”

The woman laughs so hard at that she snorts.

**Author's Note:**

> All of these things and more are what I experienced raising my own shiba inu (Penny, who gets an honorable mention near the end, there). They really are something else.
> 
> Shiba Inus: Secret Cats is a little art print by Kelsey Keefe, and is supes cute:
> 
> https://kelseykeefe.net/post/87895345283/ghostdeer-shibas-secret-cats-heres-the-other


End file.
